Scabior's Christmas Bash
by Dragon MoonX
Summary: Sequel to Voldemort's Birthday Party, but not really connected. Get ready for drunkenness, insanity and complete lack of plot as Scabior and his Snatchers throw a humongous Christmas bash! There's insane spells, wicked stories and the craziest and possibly dumbest Snatchers you will ever meet.
1. Chapter 1

**Scabior's Christmas Bash**

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter names, characters and locations belong to J.K. Rowling. I own nothing that you recognize.

A/N: This story was originally published in 2012 by RedandBlack24601. The story was taken down after a year or two on the site. I have spoken with the author and have been given permission to republish their story. Please note that the story was never completed. It is only two chapters long. And in order to preserve it in it's original form, I will not be adding to it.

* * *

Dawn had just broken when Scabior woke up that morning. He fell out of bed, onto his face, groaned and staggered upright. He yanked open a drawer and pulled out a bugle horn. Blowing it until he was red in the face, he roused the Snatchers, who all fell out of bed and hastened to line up against the wall, youngest to oldest. Scabior moved along the line, checking that each one of them was there.

Stewart, only twenty-three, was skinny and tall, with short hair. He had a permanent mud-mask around his eyes and frequently got abused by Scabior. Stewart was an all around nice guy, but was forced to join the Snatchers because Scabior was an old family friend.

Steve and Bob, the Snatcher twins, were twenty-four. They wore big puffer jackets with hoodies. The only way to tell them apart was their jackets. Steve wore a white one, and Bob wore brown. Steve could talk to Inferius and Bob bred Dragon Elves. They fought a lot.

Dingo, the Australian Snatcher, was twenty-six. He had short blond hair, and wore shorts and a top bearing the legend "I love Aussie!" He rode stingrays in his spare time.

Hohepa, the Maori Snatcher, was twenty-seven. His whole life was based around Maori culture and his roots. He frequently insisted that the Snatchers take part in a group hongi, hangi or haka. He often used Maori words in conversation.

Abdul Ali was a Buddhist Snatcher. He loves Buddhism and often tried to levitate things. His favorite places to meditate were bushes and underneath rocks.

Dirty Dog Hat Man was thirty years old. Nobody knew his real name, so they gave him his nickname because of his hat, which was filthy, with little flaps that hung down like puppy ears. He had an extreme fear of Greyback.

Flagon the Snatcher was tall, thin and pale. He thought he was pretty crash-hot, and used his Italian accent to win over the ladies.

Frank was possibly Irish, but nobody was sure, and thirty-five years old. He thought he was a leprechaun and every time he saw a rainbow he ran towards it, singing, "Fiddledee diddley, catch and griddle me. Quick or I'll be gone! Fiddledee diddley, catch and griddle me, I'm a leprechaun!" His grandfather was one eighth leprechaun.

And finally Greyback. He was about forty, but nobody was sure. Nobody wanted to ask him either, because they were scared of his werewolf powers. He liked to play the triangle.

Scabior finished checking them off the list and pulled a long roll of paper from behind his back. The Snatchers groaned.

"Right, Snatchers," Scabior announced. "As you all know, today is the day of my big Christmas bash! Now, there will be lots of alcohol and partying, but first we've got to get this place cleaned up and do our regular chores. First up, Greyback needs a walk. Ummm...Stewart! Walk him, and bring a pooper-scooper."

"Do I have to?" Stewart complained. "I don't like watching him do his business. It's not pretty."

"Stewart the Snatcher!" Scabior threatened. "You will do as I say. We don't want a repeat of last time, do we?"

"No, Scabior," Stewart whispered and went to fetch the leash. After they had left, Scabior turned to Steve and Bob.

"Okay, you two. Go get us a Christmas tree."

"What's a Christmas tree?" they asked, looking at each other in bewilderment.

"It's a tree," Scabior said exasperatedly. Steve and Bob left with a sled and a saw.

"Flagon, go get the invitations sorted, and try to use your charm for the ladies, please. We need some, we really do."

Flagon left.

"Dirty Dog Hat Man," Scabior called. "Go get us some decorations. Dingo, get us some alcohol and put up the storage tent."

"I'll go levitate," said Abdul Ali.

"I think you're confusing Muslim with Buddhist," Scabior said.

"How do you know that?" Abdul Ali asked.

"My parents were Buddhist," Scabior said proudly. "I think..."

"Right, I'll go get food," Hohepa said.

"Hohepa, you're coming with me!" Scabior said.

"What do I do?" Frank asked.

"Clean the place."

"Okay."

Scabior and Hohepa left, and Frank went to work.

Stewart was having a tough time walking Greyback. He looked away politely as Greyback did his business up against a tree. Greyback then bounded away, dragging Stewart behind him, crashing into leaves, branches and tree trunks.

Steve and Bob marched through the woods, still debating over what a Christmas tree was. They came to the place where Stewart and Greyback had just been.

"Okay, listen," Bob said. "Let's just cut down a tree and hope for the best." So they sawed away at a tree and hauled it onto the sled, not noticing the brown stuff clinging to the bottom.

Flagon was busy writing Christmas cards. Unfortunately, he couldn't write English very well, so his cards ended up looking something like this.

_Deer Sid,_

_D'ya wanna come two r Xmas bash? Bring smokes an some booze an some cash. Is at Scabioor's tnet._

_Luv, Flagin_

Dirty Dog Hat Man was getting the decorations. Being a Snatcher, he didn't quite know exactly what decorations were. So he picked up whatever empty beer bottles he could find on the side of the road and in his Snatcher tent. Then, he snatched some candles from a store and shoved them inside the bottles.

"Eh," he shrugged. "Good enough."

Dingo, with fifty-two crates of alcohol beside him, was trying to figure out how to put up a tent. He was busy treading a tent pole through the stretch of fabric that was supposed to be the tent. It wasn't budging. Then, as Dingo had his face really close to the tent, trying to see what wasn't working, the tent pole flicked out and hit him in the skull. It shot right through. Dingo pulled it out.

"Well, that's a worry," he said, looking at his brain impaled on the end of the pole. "It's gonna leave a mark." He absentmindedly rubbed the massive gaping hole in his skull that was spewing blood in copious amounts.

Abdul Ali was sitting in the middle of a bush, his legs crossed, his hands resting on his knees and his eyes closed.

"Ooooommm," he sang. "Ooooom." Abdul Ali couldn't levitate a feather in a gale force wind, but he didn't know that. He just convinced himself that the Wingardium God was taking a nap each time he failed. Suddenly Greyback, dragging Stewart behind him on his leash, sprinted through the bushes and landed right on top of Abdul.

"Ah!" I levitated!" Abdul cried.

Frank was dressed in a black apron with white frills around the sides and a white cap. In his hand was a feather duster.

"Oh, this is such hard work for a poor old leprechaun like me!" he sighed, wiping nonexistent sweat off his forehead. He then swished his skirt and fell into a hard, fake-leather armchair to take a nap.

Hohepa and Scabior were strolling through the forest.

"Wai' a minute," Scabior said. "What exactly are we doin', walking around like this?"

"I don't know about you, bro, but I'm gonna make a hangi," Hohepa said.

"Wha's a hangi?" Scabior asked.

"It's kumara and chicken and moa cooked underground, bro!" Hohepa said enthusiastically.

"I don' think you can get moa in Britain, Hohepa," said Scabior, brows furrowed.

"Eh. Kumara and chicken then, bro." Hohepa shrugged. "We'll have some kai tonight, my brother!"

"Er, I'm not your brother," Scabior replied.

"Oh, we're all whanau here, bro."

"Whatever you say, Hohepa. Whatever you say."


	2. Chapter 2

The Snatchers converged at their campsite after lugging all their stuff back to camp. Stewart was tired and dirty from being dragged along through the forest by Greyback.

Steve and Bob, the Snatcher twins, had carried in their "Christmas" tree. It was a one hundred year old oak and was bigger than all the Snatcher tents put together. So they stuck it in the ground outside.

Flagon came out of his tent, carrying an enormous stack of envelopes. He whistled to summon Bob's Dragon Elves, which came flying out of a cave in the distance.

"Go deliver these to my Snatcher mates," said Flagon, flicking his hair.

"Hey, Flagon!" yelled Steve. "You invite any chicks?"

"We know chicks?" Flagon asked, confused.

"Hey!" Scabior protested, popping in from nowhere. "We know Malvina!"

"Scabior, Malvina hates your guts!" said Bob, rolling his eyes.

"You're one to talk! You've never had a girlfriend, and the time I caught you kissin' Greyback don't count!"

Just as the Dragon Elves flew off into the distance, Dirty Dog Hat Man came back with the candles inside the beer bottles. He threw the bottles at the tree, where some of them lodged in the branches. Others fell to the ground and set the ground on fire.

"Eh," he shrugged. "Good enough."

Dingo staggered back into the clearing with a huge hole right through the middle of his skull. His brains were spewing out behind him, leaving a trail of pink-grey stuff in his wake.

"Anyone got some painkillers?" he asked.

"We're Snatchers, Dingo," Dirty Dog Hat Man said. "We can't afford Budget Cat Food, let alone painkillers."

"Okay," said Dingo, before passing out.

Abdul Ali strutted into camp, looking very proud of himself.

"I levitated!" he announced to his friends. They all started to laugh.

Just then Frank skipped out of his tent, still wearing his frilly apron.

"Oh, I always get the hardest jobs!" he complained, pouting. "I'm so tired! My leprechaun powders are fading!"

Hohepa and Scabior marched back into camp, holding a cooked moa over their heads.

"I thought moa were extinct," said Stewart. "And that they only lived in New Zealand."

"Bro," said Hohepa. "Haven't you ever heard of magic?" Then he stopped and screamed like the woman in the Psycho shower scene. "That's my tapu tree, bro!" he screamed. "Dat was planted by my tupuna!" He was pointing at the huge "Christmas" tree.

"Aren't you the first of your family to come here?" asked Stewart.

"That's not the point!" Hohepa yelled. "Let me tell you a story.

"When I was eleven years old, I got a letter from Tuputupumatawhakairiongoa telling me that I got to go there to learn magic, bro! So I went, and learned magic, then some Pakeha came and taught us Quidditch. I made a stone carving about it in stone carving class, and they put it in the New Zealand Ministry of Magic. Then, when I graduated, I decided to row a waka and find some new land. So I rowed all the way to Britain, where I stumbled upon you Snatchers. So now I'm going to repopulate this land, which I now name Hohepaland, with Maoris!"

"You know, you need women to do that, Hohepa," said Bob. "And you're kinda...single. With no hopes of getting a girlfriend. Ever." Hohepa glared at Bob.

"I now curse you, by the power of Tane and Rangipapa, by the knee of Maul and the left buttock of Rongo ma Tane. May the fleas of a thousand camels infest your armpits and your kumara wither and die in your wigwam!" Everyone stared.

"Alright, alright," Scabior yelled. "Time to get some shut eye! We've got a big day tomorrow!" And he fell face down in the dirt.

Early the next morning, Scabior blew his bugle horn to rouse the group of Snatchers.

"Okay," he said, conducting his daily attendance check. "We got up pretty early. I guess we've still got a few hours to go before anyone shows up."

And he flung open the tent to see about a hundred Snatchers gathered on their front lawn.

"How many Snatchers did you invite, Flagon?" Scabior called back into the tent.

"About ten," replied Flagon.

"Well, it looks like we have a bit more than ten out here," Scabior said.

"Scabior, my man!" called a voice from the crowd, and the next minute Sid the Snatcher came staggering out of the crowd, weighed down by a huge crate of beer, of course. "I brought you a present!" he shouted.

"That's great!" Scabior shouted, clapping Sid on this back. "Just put it in that there booze tent with the other fifty-two crates!"

"Okay!" Sid said, and threw his crate of beer into the tent. As it turned out, every single Snatcher there had brought a crate of beer as a present, and by the time one hour was up, the entire booze tent was overflowing.

"Time to socialize!" Scabior said, tapping the nearest Snatcher on the shoulder. It was Silis, the albino Snatcher from France. "'Ello, my friend!"

"Bonjour mon ami. Je voudrais un sandwich au fromage, s'il te plait. Ou est les magasins?"

"Aaaah..." Scabior said, and he ran away.

Next, he talked to Lord Wilberforce Wimbledon, the upper-class Snatcher.

"Enjoying the party, mate?" Scabior asked.

"I find it to be quite to my distaste. However, I decided, just for today, to go 'slumming it', as I believe you peasants term it, to observe how you live like rats in a sewer."

"Aaaah..." Scabior said, and ran away.

Next on his socializing list was Sir Godfrey the Shakespeare Snatcher.

"Sup, Godfrey! How are ya doing, buddy? Enjoying the parry, eh?"

"O villain, villain, smiling damned villain!" Godfrey cursed.

"Well, that's a bit harsh!" Scabior protested.

"Frailty, thy name is woman!"

"Aaaah..." Scabior said, and ran way.

Finally, Scabior approached Die, Hate, Low, Kill and Knife, the Emo Snatchers. They were cultivating mushrooms in their Emo corner.

"Sup, guys!" Scabior said cheerfully. "I thought you might be interesting to talk to. The other guys were kinda weird..."

"Go away," said Kill.

"Let us express our emotions...THROUGH PAIN!" said Knife.

"Wow...backin' up," said Scabior, and beat a hasty retreat.

Malvina had just arrived at Scabior's tent when Scabior showed up.

"Oh, it's you," Malvina said dispassionately.

"It's good to see ya, Vina!" Scabior said.

"Don't call me that!" Malvina shouted in his face. "You're dead to me!"

"Well, that's a bit mad, ya moody woman. Women are so moody. So you can go hang out with the other women at the women's tent. We have Ufs and Gertrude and... well that's about it. We love you, we're thinking of you, but some of the things that go on in that man's tent a woman should never have to see. So umm...bye!" And Scabior ran away.

It was a cleaning tent. Buckets of soapy water were scattered across the floor, and two women, called Ufs and Gertrude, were washing dishes and clothes.

"Wazzup!" Ufs said, lifting her head and sniffing at Malvina.

"Who are you?" Malvina said in disgust.

"Name's Ufs. Stands for Unidentified Female Snatcher. You can Google it. Just call me Ufs."

"And I'm Gertrude. I love cleaning! And cooking! And sewing! And knitting! And cleaning! And eating!"

"Well," said Malvina. "I hate my life. Time to go make friends with the Emo Snatchers."

Meanwhile, Scabior was addressing the crowd.

"Okay, the beer's over there in that tent, the women are in that tent, and that's the toilet corner over by that Christmas tree. We'll use the flammable fumes from your feces to light the bonfire later. In the meantime... PARTY HARD!" And he leapt off the little platform he had built for himself and began to crowd surf through the Snatchers.


End file.
